


Different Dialects

by Imagining_in_the_Margins



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Autism, Autistic Reader, Autistic Spencer Reid, F/M, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Friendship/Love, Love Confessions, Mutual Pining, Pining, Romance, Self-Insert, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-04
Updated: 2020-06-04
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:35:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24530908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Imagining_in_the_Margins/pseuds/Imagining_in_the_Margins
Summary: Spencer is trying to tell Autistic!Reader he likes her, but it feels like they speak entirely different languages.
Relationships: Spencer Reid/Reader
Comments: 6
Kudos: 178





	Different Dialects

The first time (y/n) told me she felt like a color, she told me she felt yellow.

There was no need for explanation— it made perfect sense to me. She looked like sunshine and smelled like peaches and fresh laundry. Her laughter sounded like wind chimes and strings and her voice moved like honey; slow and sweet and sticking with me. I wondered what that would mean if I kissed her. Would my lips cling to hers, holding us together for a few moments longer?

I tried not to lose myself in fantasies that would never come true and decided, instead, to enjoy the way the world looked and sounded when (y/n) was happy.

“Spencer!” She ran up to my desk too quickly, unable to stop in time and colliding directly into my chair. She didn’t even notice the way her knees were definitely going to bruise, her face inches away from mine as the chair drifted away from my desk.

“Hello!” I responded, overwhelmed by the adorable, but completely erratic girl now trying to spin me around in my chair.

“Did you see Emily brought donuts?” She was out of breath, her chest heaving and her body seemingly moving off pure inertia.

“Did she?” I asked, looking over to the elevator to see Emily was sure enough carrying her trademark pink box. 

Raising her eyebrows in a playful challenge, she halfway stuck her tongue out each time she paused for a breath. “Bet I can beat you to the chocolate frosted with sprinkles.”

“Oh, you’re on.”

My arm wrapped around her waist, lifting her off the ground and spinning the chair around and dropping her back down on the other side of my desk. I spun back around, jumping out of my chair.

I didn’t make it very far before she launched herself onto my back, her arms around my shoulders as we nearly toppled over in the middle of the bullpen.

“Saboteur!” She shouted in my ear. Normally the sound would seem deafening, but paired with that overjoyed giggle, I happily accepted the volume. 

“Hey! No roughhousing!” Emily reprimanded, waving a finger toward the two of us as I lowered (y/n) back to her feet.

“Sorry.” We said in unison, neither of us sounding entirely convincing.

“You guys know I always get two. I’m trying to make people happy, not incite a riot.”

She held the box up to us, flipping it open to reveal the confectioneries inside. (Y/n), true to her word, beat me to the punch. I didn’t tell her that I’d let her, wanting to see the way her face lit up when she grabbed the donut and quickly bit into it with absolutely no pause whatsoever.

“Thanks Emily!” She said, the words muffled through the pastry in her mouth. Emily just nodded, the both of us watching her skip back over to her desk. I couldn’t take my eyes off her, even as she sat at her desk and spun her chair back and forth, her entire body bouncing as a few sprinkles toppled onto her lap.

“So… You gonna tell her?”

Emily was looking at me with a sly grin, acutely aware of the smitten look on my face. But I wasn’t fully ready to admit the feelings to myself, nonetheless to her. She handed me the other sprinkle-covered donut, which I took, if only as an excuse to avoid the question. 

“Tell her what?” I asked before taking a bite.

“That you like her.” She spared me no embarrassment in her bluntness. I nearly choked on the pastry, just praying that (y/n) was too distracted to have heard Emily’s words or my reaction. Glancing back to her, I saw that she’d placed her noise canceling headphones on already.

 _Thank god_.

“Well?” Emily repeated, as if to ask if I really thought she’d expose me like that when (y/n) was within earshot. 

“U-Um, no?”

“No, you don’t like her?” She quickly responded; her amusement clear across all her features. “That’s a pretty bold lie, Reid.”

“I… don’t think it’s a good idea.” I mumbled, continuing to eat my donut and avoiding eye contact with literally everyone. Although I knew she was distracted and unable to hear, I was still worried she might be able to read my responses or hear my words.

“Why not?”

There were so many reasons. What if she didn’t like me back? What if she thought we were too similar? Too different? Too weird? What if she did like me and I ruined it? What if I hurt her? I couldn’t bear the thought. But I didn’t want to pour my heart out at 9:13AM, either.

So instead, I just said, “We work together.”

“That’s not a good excuse and you know it.” Emily saw through it, just like I expected she would. She knew me too well to fall for such a juvenile trick.

With a heavy sigh, I picked at the sprinkles that fell onto my lap, thinking about how much of a mess the two of us would make together.

“I don’t even know how I’d tell her.”

“How would you want her to tell you?”

It was an interesting thought, and one that I’d never really allowed myself to pursue. And I honestly wasn’t sure. It felt like such an improbability that it might as well be impossible. A reality where she not only liked me, but she liked me enough to _tell_ me?

“I never thought about it.” I admitted, trying to stifle the hope in my voice.

But Emily had seen the small smile, and I knew it was all over. Gently patting my head, she gave me one final piece of advice.

“So… Think about it.” 

—

Then there was the day she told me it wasn’t that she felt red, but that the whole world did. It was too loud, too fast, and everything was happening all at once. When she sat down alone on the couch in the jet cabin, I was too scared to sit next to her.

She had her knees pulled up to her chest, her hands clasped over her ears and her eyes clenched tightly shut. My bag rested on the floor beside her, and I wondered if it was worth it to move it out of her way, or if I was just trying to find an excuse to be closer to her.

Deciding it was a little bit of both, I slowly and quietly creeped over to the area beside her, noting the way her hands trembled from the force applied to her head as she anticipated the roar of the jet engine.

But when I reached down to get my bag, one of her hands fell away from her head, dropping down to grab my wrist. Her tiny hand clutched it like it was a life raft lost within the unpredictable waves.

There was no other movement beyond her desperate clinging to something she felt could keep her grounded, despite the knowledge that we’d be barreling through the sky at 500 miles per hour.

“Do you want me to sit with you?”

She didn’t speak, just nodding her head with a slight quiver in her lip. Her eyes opened, darting from my face to the empty space beside her.

Without removing her hand from my arm, I sat down next to her so that our bodies didn’t touch. To my surprise, she began to shift closer. Her other hand finally dropped from her head, now tapping rhythmic patterns against her leg.

In my head, I could hear each pad of her fingers like the keys of a piano, playing a soothing melody to drown out the rest of the world.

She jumped when she felt my muscles shift under her fingers, almost letting go of me in the process. But she didn’t; she looked down at the way my fingers had begun to tap the same pattern against my leg.

For a long moment, she just watched the way our hands moved in sync, the tension in her jaw and shoulders beginning to melt away as I eventually started to change the rhythm to match the melody of a song I’d heard her singing before.

We didn’t even notice when the jet took off, too busy humming and tapping to the soundtrack in our minds to bother hearing the engine and the wind.

“Do you know morse code?” I asked, earning a confused, suspicious stare from her as her tapping abruptly stopped.

“No, I don’t think so. Am I saying something?” She laughed, finally removing her hand from my wrist and leaving me to immediately regret asking the question.

“What would you do if I told you that you were?” I joked back, but she looked at me with such a horrified fascination and embarrassment that I almost felt bad. “You aren’t! I just think it would be interesting. Like what if we could say things without even knowing?”

I could tell that I was losing her the more I spoke, but I was happy to see that it was a confused smile rather than a frown.

“Spencer, that’s our whole job. We read the things people say without knowing.” With a teasing smile, she swayed over to knock into my side. But she didn’t move away, resting her body weight against me with a comforting pressure and warmth. “And I think you’re saying that you’re tired.”

She wasn’t entirely wrong, but the exhaustion I felt wasn’t just from a lack of sleep. I was tired of myself, my own cowardice and anxiety that kept me from doing what I wanted to do.

“Do you want me to show you some words in morse code?”

“Sure!” She excitedly replied, offering me her palm.

It took me a minute to catch my breath again, taking the small appendage in one hand and bringing my fingers to rest against it. There were a few simple words that I knew she would enjoy.

I started with her name, and she laughed at the way it tickled her palm.

“Another.” She ordered, bouncing lightly in her seat as I started to go through all the different colors. Occasionally, she’d stop me to tell me her guess as to what I’ve showed her.

“That one feels like yellow.” She interrupted; her voice so confident that I felt bad telling her she’d gotten it wrong.

“Close. It’s purple.”

She burst out into a bubbly laugh, shaking her head hard enough that her hair shifted and reflected the dim cabin lights. “Purple and yellow aren’t close at all! They’re on opposite ends of the color wheel!”

“I like to call that _complementary_.”

She just kept shaking her head, a slight chastisement in her glare. I didn’t mind how much her eyes were narrowed or her eyebrows furrowed, because it was the first time all day that she’d looked into my eyes.

“Show me something else.” She urged, spreading out her fingers in my hand.

I hoped that she didn’t notice the way my fingers began to tremble around hers, or that she would merely chalk it up to the vibrations as the jet began its descent.

“Okay. One more.”

Carefully, I began the familiar pattern I’d learned as a child to surprise my mother. I never thought that I would use it like this, but now that I was here, it made perfect sense. I felt it just as much as I had when I was six, but this time it was entirely different.

‘ _I love you_.’

Tapping it once, I paused to see her reaction. She was staring at my fingers, her curiosity slowly blooming to a faint, distant longing.

‘ _I love you_.’

I repeated it again, feeling the reserves of air in my lungs quickly dwindling the longer the silence stretched.

“Do it again.” She said so quietly I almost missed it.

‘ _I love you_.’

“That one feels nice.” She happily hummed, her eyelids fluttering shut and a gentle smile creeping across her cheeks. When I didn’t answer, her eyes once again found mine. “What does it mean?”

Suddenly I was terrified that she could see right through me. My cheeks burned with the truth behind the words I’d written against her skin. I could see my own flustered expression staring back at me, lost in the beauty of this quiet moment with her amidst the chaos of what she’d called a red day.

Thankfully, I was saved by the abrupt, jarring landing. She grabbed the couch and my hand, still trusting that I could keep her grounded. She held it until the jet came to a complete stop. When she let go, I was the one to leave first. The emotions left unsaid and the pounding of my heart was suffocating in the small cabin.

“Wait, Spencer!” She called, scrambling awkwardly down the runway with absolutely no grace after sitting cross legged on the flight. “You never told me. What did it mean?”

My heart caught in my chest, blocking the words from coming out. I stood there like an idiot, my mouth struggling to close and my tongue failing to move the right way. All the while she stood there, patient and grinning with a soft joy I hoped I could recreate every day for the rest of my life.

“I’ll tell you later.”

As we parted ways that day, she told me that the world seemed a little more like pink now.

—

Sky blue was when she felt like family, she’d said.

That was the way she felt when we were all cramped together to watch Rossi attempt to teach us a dish to which we’d never do justice. It was the piling up of team mates on couches that clearly had enough space for all of us to have room.

She was the only one who sat alone, but she didn’t seem to mind. Curled up on the couch with a soft smile on her face, her eyes lazily followed after the conversation. Her laughter, while quieter than the rest of the crowd, was the loudest in my mind.

JJ had pointed out to me before that every time someone told a joke, I’d turn to see what she thought about it. I couldn’t help but notice it now, just how often I looked at her. I wondered if she noticed but hoped that she didn’t. It was embarrassing, really, just how much serotonin I could manufacture with a single second of her in my sight.

The night ended too soon, just like it always did when I was with her. We all crowded at the entrance, repeating goodbyes over and over and sharing hugs around the circle. I was the first to say I had to leave, and so I was the first to be passed around in a flurry of arms and kisses on the cheek.

I would never accept this kind of affection from anyone beyond the people in this room. That’s precisely why every time I got to her position in the queue, we would just smile at each other. She would raise her hand in a tiny wave, and I would respond with my own.

Some days, good days, she’d flash a peace sign or the kind of smile that was so big her eyes had to close to accommodate it.

I realized that it must not have been a good day. Her lips were sucked into her mouth, her eyes on the ground as she rocked back and forth in front of me.

“Bye Spencer!” She said, her voice breaking a bit and at a higher register than normal. Her hands didn’t move, clasped tightly in front of her.

“See you, (y/n).” I tried not to sound disappointed or linger. The only thing more humiliating than shining a spotlight on her eccentricities would be the sadness in my voice. The silence followed quickly after the door closed behind me.

I closed my eyes, breathing in the cool night air in hopes that it would dissolve the lump in my throat. I didn’t even feel the chill prickling against my skin, my mind wrapped up in the sound of her laughter from earlier in the night.

Then it was like I could hear it, the sounds of the party swelling again before disappearing from my mind.

“Spencer!”

Jumping at the sound, I turned to find her standing directly behind me, just as nervous as she’d been moments before.

“Hey, what’s up?” I asked, looking down at my pockets and mentally checking off all my belongings. “Did I forget something?”

“N-No, not exactly. I just…” She was rocking so insistently I was honestly worried she might fall over. Recognizing the flush on her face from the few glasses of wine she’d had, I put out my hand for her to hold for balance. She didn’t take it, just staring down at it while biting her lip.

“Are you alri— ”

The question died on my tongue the moment she wrapped her arms around me. My entire body froze against the warmth of her body pressed against mine. She buried her face into my chest, her hands grabbing the back of my jacket tight enough that I could feel her nails through the thick fabric.

We didn’t say anything at first, just taking in the moment in the quiet night that sounded like crickets and frantic heartbeats. It took me too long to realize that I could touch her back, my arms then moving at a snail’s pace around her.

I was scared that any touch might shatter this experience; I didn’t want it to end.

But when I held her, she only squeezed tighter. I knew it wasn’t the force that knocked the air from my lungs, leaving me hyperventilating and shaking at the contact.

“I told myself I was going to hug you tonight.” She mumbled against my shirt, the words so garbled I almost didn’t hear them. “But I got scared and I didn’t want everyone to watch me.”

“That’s fine! Y-You don’t have to hug me, (y/n).” The words hurt as I said them, my throat tightening to try and stop them before they came out. She felt so unbelievably soft, her hurried breaths warm against my chest and her nose nuzzling closer.

“I didn’t say I didn’t want to… I like hugging you.” She whispered, concern and fear lacing her voice. “Just feels weird when everyone is looking at us.”

“Yeah, it does, doesn’t it?” I didn’t actually feel that way. Honestly, the thought of hugging her in front of everyone filled me with an unexplainable joy. The idea that everyone could see the way she made me feel, that she would let me hold her?

“It can just be our thing, then.” I said, running a hand over the back of her head as I dropped my head down to smell the familiar, soothing scent of her shampoo. I wanted to remember it forever. I wanted to be able to recall every single thing about this moment. From the way we swayed just a little bit back and forth to how her teeth still chattered, her body seeking more contact and more warmth.

I wanted to wrap her up in my coat and carry her home with me, littering her face with kisses and making sure that she never forgot just how beautiful and loved she was.

But she pulled away, her arms immediately crossing over her chest and building a wall between us.

“It’s cold.” She mumbled, taking a step back towards the door. She hadn’t driven herself, so she was stuck here until whenever it was JJ’s turn to leave. I thought about offering her a ride home, but the words never came out.

“Yeah, it is.” I agreed, digging out my keys and using the same hand to give our usual little wave. “Thanks for keeping me warm, (y/n).” 

“Okay…” I couldn’t tell if her voice was shaking from the cold or the nerves, but she raised an even quicker wave than usual, smiling as she turned to dart back inside. “Bye, Spencer!”

—

The day I woke up in the hospital, (y/n) told me that she couldn’t tell what color it was. If she had to guess, it was probably black. She said it had to be — it was the mixture of all the colors that marred my skin.

The case had gone poorly to say the least. It had come down to one of those impossible situations where it was either going to be me or my partner that got put directly in the path of danger. There wasn’t a single particle of my being that would have ever let it be her. But I hadn’t been able to make her understand that.

No, she’d fought with me the whole way, demanding that she be the one to go. I didn’t know how to explain to her that it wasn’t because I didn’t believe in her, or that I thought she couldn’t handle it. Because she could. She _had_.

(Y/n) was one of the strongest people I’d ever met— certainly braver and more capable than me. But I couldn’t. I couldn’t watch her walk away, I couldn’t let her go. So I’d taken her place, securing her freedom in exchange for my own.

The last thing I remembered from that encounter was the sound of her yelling my name, frantically searching the area for me. Although I could have yelled back, I hadn’t. I hadn’t wanted her to find me. I’d wanted her to leave; I’d wanted her to live.

I knew now like I’d known then that it had been a stupid, reckless decision. This was her job and she wanted to do it the same as I did . But the thought of what happened to me happening to her was painful enough to justify it in my mind.

Through the hours of torture, I’d just had to remember her face and know that she wasn’t there. She was safe, or at least relatively so.

She had been the one to find me, too. I remembered thinking that it was the second time she’d ever hugged me, and it felt just as bright and lovely even when I was covered in blood.

But now, she couldn’t even look at me, which hurt worse than the bruises and cuts across each inch of exposed skin. Even worse, the tears that were streaming down her face were too far away for me to wipe them away. She hadn’t stayed long, becoming overwhelmed every time she remembered where she was.

The soft beeping of the heart monitor sounded so much louder to us. I knew she heard the way it got faster and irregular as she left. I knew because she turned around to look at me, hurt and anger in her eyes that only met mine for one fleeting moment.

Yeah, I thought, it did feel like black.

—

I was lucky enough to be released that same day, but my empty apartment didn’t feel that much different from the hospital room . If anything, it felt worse here. I couldn’t stop thinking about the look on her face when she’d turned to look back at me.

Was she mad at me? I didn’t blame her if she was. Whether I wanted to or not, I’d doubted her capabilities and gotten myself hurt in the process.

I was pacing back and forth in my kitchen, trying to ignore the way my muscles protested the movement because the effect it had on my mental health seemed to be worth the pain.

_Knock. Knock. Knock._

The sound was soft, hesitant, but perfectly timed. It was such a familiar pattern that I almost believed I’d imagined it. It was exactly the sound I’d wanted to hear all night.

Deciding it best not to get my hopes up based on a hunch from a wishful mind, I walked over to the door with as little hurry as I could bear. The old door creaked loudly, revealing an anxious but somehow still sleepy looking (y/n).

Her hands were behind her back, her eyes staring down at my feet as she chewed on the inside of her cheek.

“Hey Spencer.”

“… How did you get here?” I knew it probably wasn’t the welcome she’d been expecting or hoping for, but I was surprised to see that there was no one accompanying her. It wasn’t exactly a well-known secret that she _hated_ driving in the city, and public transport was even worse. I could understand that hesitancy; I shared it myself.

“Uber.”

I let the word marinate for a second before I asked the question that immediately popped into my head. “You got an Uber by yourself?”

It was something I’d never expected to see. Ride sharing was the worst of all the other options, but it was also the quickest. She’d never be able to navigate DC by herself, and the metro would take way too long for her to get here at this hour. Not to mention how dangerous it was for a woman at night— regardless of her extensive training.

She’d gotten into a car with a complete stranger, and most likely had to suffer through the awkward attempts at small talk and the unfamiliar environment for the entire 45 minute drive on 95, just to show up at my door at 10pm.

“Yeah.” She confirmed simply, like it wasn’t a completely shocking and absurd thing for her to do. “I wanted to see you.”

“… Why?” I didn’t mean to sound rude, although I feared that was exactly how I sounded. Luckily, she didn’t seem to take it that way. She was too preoccupied messing with whatever was behind her back.

Like she could read my mind, she pulled the object out, shoving it forward into my chest. It only took me a few seconds to recognize the small stuffed animal that she always brought with her to every overnight trip.

On second thought, I wasn’t sure I’d _ever_ seen her without it.

She looked terrified and embarrassed when I didn’t respond, pushing harder against me with the toy until my hands came up to take it from her. She immediately crossed her arms over her chest, turning away from me and trying to make eye contact with me despite the black ring around my right eye.

“You…?” I started, not exactly sure how to phrase the question.

She knew what I was asking regardless, and quickly explained. “You should borrow it tonight. It always makes me feel better. It’s very soft.”

My jaw felt like it was stuck open, my tongue rolling in my mouth to try and describe to her the conflicting maelstrom of emotions raging in my chest. “But this is your…”

“You should borrow it.”

This was her trying to be assertive. She wanted me to have the thing that made her feel better because she felt guilty, and she didn’t like seeing me upset. But didn’t she realize why we were in this situation in the first place? I could _never_ sacrifice her happiness and comfort for my own. It wasn’t possible.

I held it back out to her, hating the way it drew tears to her eyes. I rested the other hand against her shoulder, my breath hitching when she leaned into my touch.

“(Y/n)… That’s really sweet but…” I slid my hand down her arm, taking her hand and using it to hold the stuffed animal. “I think you could use it more than me tonight.”

She wouldn’t take it, though. She pushed it back into my hands and shook her head, tightly shutting her eyes in a sad attempt to hide the tears that were starting to fall.

“Please?” She begged, her shoulders starting to jerk with each small sob. “It’s all my fault you got hurt and I don’t know how else to make it better.”

“Hey, it’s not your fault!” I said in a rushed, high pitched whisper. Her hands covered her face before I could grab her, and she curled into herself in the hallway. My heart ached at the sight, my mind short circuiting as it tried to concoct a plan to stop the tears any way I could.

“You did a great job, (y/n). You’re the one who found me!” I assured her, my hands running up and down her shoulders and arms before I gave up, choosing to just pull her into a full hug. I took a deep breath, squeezing her tighter as she cried harder.

“You saved me.” I told her, leaving off the when, why, and how of it all. Because while she had been the person to find me that day, it wasn’t the first time she’d saved me.

“I’m sorry, Spencer.” She muttered into my pajama top, her body going limp in my arms. She didn’t hug me back, but she didn’t need to. Just the action of her relaxing told me that she appreciated the contact, and I was certainly more than happy to hold her however long she needed.

“How about this, how about I do borrow him tonight?” I said after I felt the tears begin to slow. She pulled back, wiping at her eyes and looking positively adorable when her pout turned into a smile.

“But I want you to stay here, too.” I finished, poking her nose and eliciting a shocked chirp. Batting those wide eyes to disperse the last of the tears, she nodded hesitantly.

“Okay.”

That was all she said, stepping around me to walk right into my living room. It wasn’t the first time she’d been here, although it had been a while. I could tell she was trying to take a mental note of everything that had changed since then.

“You can stay in my bed.” I purposefully interrupted the thought before she could bother noticing any of the more embarrassing knick knacks or habits evident in my now dusty apartment.

“Where will you stay?”

I shrugged, gesturing to the couch next to her. “I can sleep on the couch. Won’t be the first time.”

She narrowed her eyes, her lips pursing together while she thought. “But you’re hurt. That’s not right.” Turning to me, she saw her favorite comfort item still safe in my hand. Quieter now, she whispered, “And if you sleep on the bed with me, we can share.”

“You want me to…” My voice broke, the words trailing off as my body had a _completely_ unwelcome response to her asking to share my bed with me. Of course, we’d shared rooms together before, and occasionally the jet couch, but we’d never been that close before. Especially not in that setting.

Looking over, I saw the hard swallow in her throat and the bashful smile on her face as she realized what she was suggesting. “We can put a pillow between us if you want.”

“Yeah, that’s fine.” I responded dumbly, staring at her as she started to inch closer to the bedroom.

“Okay… Let’s go.”

She was so quick; I honestly didn’t know how she managed to move in such little bursts and still make it so far. By the time I convinced my feet to move and made it to the bedroom, she had already removed her shoes and slid under the covers.

The comfort and ease with which she slipped into my home wasn’t surprising. She’d eased into my life and heart much the same way. But still, seeing her cuddled up in the empty space I slept in every night made my heart flutter so hard it nearly stopped.

Eventually, somehow, I managed to join her. Like she’d offered, I placed a pillow between us. I didn’t want to, but I figured it might make the close proximity easier for the both of us. The last thing I wanted to do was to make her uncomfortable or have some horrible misunderstanding.

I was already totally overwhelmed and horrified at the possible outcomes, but they seemed more than worth it to see the dopey smile on her face when our hands joined over the toy she’d traveled so far to give me.

“Are you comfortable?” I asked, keeping my voice just above a whisper.

She rubbed her face on the pillow that I knew smelled like me, giving me yet another arrhythmia at the thought. “Yeah.” She mumbled, closing her eyes. “I’m tired.”

“Go to sleep. If you need anything, I’ll be right here.”

I heard a snort from the girl across from me. “I’m supposed to be helping you, not the other way around.”

“Of course. Sorry.” I chuckled, using every ounce of willpower I had to refrain from reaching out to move the hair from her face. Everything in me wanted to bring her closer, press a kiss to her forehead, her cheeks, her lips. I wanted to tangle into a mess of limbs and love. But I couldn’t.

Instead, I just squeezed her hand over the toy that we held like a lifeline, whispering to her in the darkness.

“Sweet dreams, (y/n).”

“Goodnight, Spencer.”

—

I woke up the next morning to feather-soft touches over my cheeks, a brightness blooming through me as a sigh fell from my lips. I didn’t open my eyes, but my hands began to roam over the unfamiliar landscape within my grasp.

I felt smooth, warm skin that rippled with goosebumps under my fingers. Lithe legs wound further around mine upon my suggestion. It felt like a dream, to have something so small and fragile clinging to me. My hand on her lower back brought her closer, pressing her against me before I could even realize that I’d blurred the lines between reality and my fantasies.

But I didn’t panic; I couldn’t. Intelligent design dictated that my body knew when it was safe, and I melted in her arms. It felt like home.

When I did finally open my eyes, I saw her serene stare, looking at me with a wide-eyed fascination from mere inches away. It took what little breath I had away from me, staring back at her with all the love I could muster.

“Good morning.” I whispered, causing her eyes to flicker down to my lips. It was hard to tell how much of her longing was real or imagined, created by my lovesick, oxygen-deprived brain as we stayed wrapped up in each other under the covers.

“White.”

It was a curious start to a beautiful memory, her mouth still open in a silent amazement, her eyes now staring directly into mine. I wondered if she could see the thoughts racing through my mind. Could she see the way they tumbled and toppled over each other to fall into the bottomless pit of my longing?

Could she hear the way my heart ached for her? Did she know?

I gently cleared my throat, trying to wipe away the words that threatened to slip out.

“Is that a good color?”

She tilted her head to the side, her fingertips drifting back and forth over my cheeks. Completely absorbed in her thoughts, she must have not noticed the way my fingers started to tap against her thigh once again.

I wrote the same pattern against her skin now, as I had before on the plane. Unknowingly or by design, she started to tap the same rhythm against my cheeks.

“It’s a new one.”

She didn’t give any other explanation.

—

It was 1am. It was a new day, and I hadn’t talked to (y/n) yet, so there was no way for me to know what kind of day it was. But I knew from the context of yesterday’s events that it was probably not great.

See, it wasn’t until the jet had landed back in Virginia that she’d realized she had left something of great importance back in Atlanta, Georgia. Although she tried to remain calm, I saw the panic and fear in the way JJ stroked her hair, whispering calming instructions to her on the couch.

JJ had told me shortly afterwards what had happened, informing me that they could get her comfort item back to her in a few days’ time. My stomach turned as I remembered the night she’d tangled up with me, the toy pressed between our chests.

A few days was too long. I pictured her sleepless nights and silent tears as she tried to find something to distract her from the loss. A few days was too long for something that was only nine hours away.

So I drove. I got in my car and I didn’t stop until I stumbled into the hotel I’d only just left and retrieved the small stuffed animal from the poor, confused clerk. He clearly didn’t understand why on earth anyone would travel that far for such a ratty old thing, but I didn’t have time to explain. I needed to get it back home to her.

Another agonizing ten hours later, I’d finally made it to her house. For a moment, I looked at the clock and realized that it was an entirely inappropriate time to be doing this.

She’d shown up at my door once like this before, but that was at least a semi-reasonable time. But _1am_?

Still, I saw the light of her bedroom shining through the pale white curtains and I knew I had to try. I didn’t want to take the chance of her missing out on an entire night of sleep if I could help it.

Gathering my courage and trying to breathe, I walked up to her door and rang the doorbell, listening to the soft chime on the other side. I heard her drop something as she was no doubt pacing in her bedroom, followed by her feet padding down the stairs.

She paused at the door, and I looked up at the peephole hoping that she’d see the urgency in my eyes.

“Spencer?” Her eyes were as wild as I’m sure I looked when she opened the door, her mouth hanging open while she clung to the wood between us.

Still out of breath from sprinting to her door and half doubled over, I couldn’t stop the way my mouth stretched into a smile at the way she looked swamped in pajamas.

“Hey.” A lame, pathetic response that was barely audible. She heard it anyway, staring at me with confusion written all over her face.

“It’s the middle of the night, what are you doing here?”

I stepped forward cautiously, my hand almost shaking under the metaphorical weight of the half pound animal. “I got this for you.” I explained, finally looking into her eyes to see the puffy, red ring that came from hours of crying.

Just as slowly and unsure, she took it from me, inspecting the toy to find that it was hers, just as she’d left it the day before.

“… How did you—“

“I drove.” I didn’t mean to cut her off, but I didn’t feel bad about it, either. There were so many things on my mind in that moment, the largest of which was how badly I wanted to wrap her tired form up in my arms and carry her away from the world that had made her cry.

“You hate driving.” 

She was right. I needed her to know that she was right.

“Yeah, I do.” I nodded, building the momentum before the next words came and hit us like a freight train in a collision that couldn’t be reversed.

“But I like you.”

(Y/n) stepped back, her hands both coming up to her chest and gripping the soft fur under her fingers. She didn’t speak, just waiting for me to continue, to explain my vague statement and make it make more sense.

“Actually, th-that’s a lie. I don’t just like you— I love you.” I cursed my brain for choosing such a terrible way of saying it, and I watched the emotions flicker and morph in her eyes the longer I continued.

“I’m in love with you.” I repeated, wondering if it was a mistake to say this at 1am, but not really caring at the same time. So I poured my heart out to her on her porch, throwing all caution to the wind and not looking back.

“I’ve been in love with you for a while now. Pretty much since the day I met you.” Her eyes were settled comfortably on my face, a tenderness and reverence filling them.

“And I wasn’t sure how to tell you, and I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable or feel like you had to like me back. And I didn’t drive for twenty hours because I wanted you to owe me anything. It’s just… the thought of you not having the thing that makes you happy when you’re scared or sad was…”

“Spencer?” She stepped forward as she spoke my name, the sound bringing everything else in the world to a screeching halt as I was consumed with thoughts of her. Her approach was steady until she stood right before me, looking up at me with that same loving look.

“Yeah?” I was almost scared of her response, but it came swiftly and without warning.

And she kissed me. Gently, insistently, nervously, her lips as soft and warm as I’d imagined they would be.

The next thing I thought about was the fact that she still smelled like peaches and fresh laundry, and the way her arms around my neck pulled me down to her felt a lot like the gravitational pull of the sun.

And I was right before, to think that her honey-sweet voice would transfer to the way she kissed. Because when she started to leave, I followed her, bringing our lips together again as my hands found her face, holding her as close as I could.

We stopped when we couldn’t breathe anymore, looking at each other while I replayed what had just happened over and over, praying that it wouldn’t be the last time.

“Thanks. But…” Her voice shook, and the words made my heart sink. Warmth bloomed in her cheeks under my palms, her eyes breaking away and her words slurring together. “I don’t need this to be happy.”

She looked down at the toy, then back up to me. The curve of her lips grew until her eyes had to close to make room for her smile. She started to laugh, her free hand resting against one of mine.

“I-I think I just need you.”

After a moment of shocked silence, I joined her in laughing, but only for a second. There was something else that demanded my attention; something far more pressing.

“Can I kiss you again?”

She nodded, standing on her toes and wrapping her arms around my neck once more. Her fingers curled in my hair when my arms dropped to her waist, practically lifting her off the ground in my haste.

Without moving away, her lips moved against mine in a quiet whisper.

“Lavender.” She said, her fingers running along the purple tie wrapped around my neck.

It took me a moment to catch up with what was happening, looking down and feeling her forehead press against mine. She sighed contentedly through well-kissed lips.

“This is what lavender feels like.”


End file.
